


from the bruises flowers grow

by freefallng



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Homophobic Language, M/M, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 23:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7334374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freefallng/pseuds/freefallng
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis’ been running his whole life, but when he meets the boy with the curls and the stunning eyes he thinks that may need to change. </p>
            </blockquote>





	from the bruises flowers grow

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so!!! This is the first thing I'm publishing on this website! I actually haven't written in a long time, in fact this is about two years old so it hasn't been edited or anything lmao. The title is from Keep on Walking by Gabrielle Aplin.  
> This is purely a work of fiction and in no way to I believe that the events in this work have happened to any of the members of 1D.

Louis likes to run. It’s far easier than facing all of his problems and has been a lot more effective than any other method of dealing that he’s tried.

 

Well really, he hasn’t tried anything else but why would he need to when he’s doing just fine the way he is? The first time Louis ran was when he was five. Louis knew things weren’t good with his parents, and that’s not something a five year old should have to be able to recognize but, it is what it is.

 

He’s five and tired but their heat has been turned off from countless late fees and Louis can’t sleep when he’s this cold. His mother was buzzing around the house busily when the door slammed open and someone stumbled in. The loud noise startled the small five year old and he hopped out of bed and ventured into the hallway. He stood quietly and watched as his father stumbled in, obviously intoxicated. His mother showed no fear, because this was obviously not the first time.

 

Suddenly there’s a loud crack of skin on skin, but this was different. This was the first time that his father ever dare lay even a finger out of line on his mother, and now she was on the floor leaning against the counters the tears streaming silently. He was apologizing and Louis was running. Running out the front door the silent chants of away away away flew through his head.

 

He didn’t get that far; because he’s five and tired and it’s even colder outside than in their heatless New York apartment.

 

-

 

Louis’ eight now and he’s a big kid, he can do his homework by himself and cut his food by himself. He definitely doesn’t need any help, at least not with anything that he can tell people about.

 

Because he’s eight now and his father is still hitting his mother and his mother is very very sad. Louis loves his mom very much and doesn’t like seeing her sad.

 

Sometimes his mother jokes, with that sad little smile on her face, that in another life she’d probably make a great makeup artist with how well she could cover up all of the ugly bruises and cuts that his father has given her. Louis thinks she could do anything she puts her mind to and that the sun used to shine out of her eyes, but lately the sun’s been dim and he misses the light.

 

Louis wonders why when he does bad things that his father hurts his mother because, maybe, Louis deserves it more. Last month he left the bathroom sink running so long that their bathroom was flooded and all his mother told him to do was to go to his room. Even in his room he couldn’t escape the loud crack of the sound of skin meeting skin and the sobs that his mother let out before she quickly muffled them. He sings under his breath, songs his mother sang to him when he couldn’t sleep, but nothing could drowned out the sound of the hateful words being spit out across their living room.

 

Today Louis stood in black as the rain dripped down drearily and streaked down his face faster than his tears ever could. He sneered disgustingly towards his father who was fake sniffling into a handkerchief and then he sobbed. His mother was gone and he sobbed until he couldn’t take it anymore and he ran. He ran until he couldn’t breathe, he sat on the side of the road and sobbed until his father found him and called him a “whiny disgrace”.

 

-

 

Louis was ten when he realized why his dad hadn’t hit him when he was younger. His mother had protected him so well and he misses her everyday. She’s gone now and Louis can’t escape the bruises and cuts that his father has now passed onto him as if it were some twisted family heirloom. He’s not as good at covering it up as his mother was and he cries as he has to wear another long sleeve shirt to school in 79 degree weather and he brushes it off when someone asks.

 

“It was the only clean shirt I had,” he’ll say as he laughs it off.

 

Louis’ father hadn’t hit him in about a month and he didn’t know whether to be scared or relieved. He didn’t learn until later that night that he should have been deathly afraid.

 

Louis’ laundry had piled up and so had the dishes and he swore that he was going to do them but he was a fourth grader now and the math was harder. He knew that if he brought home F’s on his report card he’d get hit harder than if he hadn’t done his chores, or so he thought.

 

“You think sitting there on your ass doodling on some fucking piece of paper is more important than keeping this house clean, don’t you? Absolute fucking slob, get off your fucking chair now,” his father spat. It wasn’t the language that scared Louis, that happened all the time, it was what he knew was coming next.

 

His father kicked him square in the chest and Louis couldn’t breathe. Obviously the fact that Louis was wheezing desperately trying to get the message across wasn’t important to his father as he walked away, mumbling angrily.

Louis got up and he ran, as best as he could. He ran through the crowded city streets and to the nearest hospital, he promised the nurse with the pretty smile that his father was just down the street getting them donuts. Louis told her that he had just helped win the biggest game of his little league football team’s season. The nurse seemed new and oh so gullible, she believed him and didn’t file any reports of abuse. The fact that his father hadn’t laid a hand on him in a month probably made it a little bit more believable since all of his bruises and cuts have healed.

 

Louis had 3 broken ribs down the left side and he didn’t go home that night.

 

-

 

Louis is in the fifth grade, about twelve, when his father asks him to “get me some fucking pot or get the hell out of my house, you worthless piece of shit”. Louis has known for a while that his father has done every drug put on this green earth, and was considerably confused that he only wanted weed. Louis would have left if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s already checked at every homeless shelter in running distance to see if they had a room. (Of course he said it was for some poor sick man that he found sleeping in Central Park, never for himself.)

 

Louis goes to get the pot, he hands the money to the pretty girl with bags under her eyes and one of the saddest smiles he’s ever seen.

 

“I hope that’s not for you, sweetie,” she said with a gleam of worry in her eyes. Louis just smiles and tells her he likes her shirt before he’s running again.

 

Louis’ side of town has been known for gangs, any good parent wouldn’t send a twelve year old out this late, but Louis’ didn’t need the bruises since he had to wear his short sleeved shirt with his gym uniform tomorrow.

 

When a gang or kids, probably not much older than he is, pop out of the shadows Louis isn’t surprised. He sighs pockets the weed as quickly as he can and just waits.

 

They knock him around a bit (they gave him a set of black eyes and probably a broken rib or two) but it’s nothing that he isn’t used to and when they’re done, Louis runs.

 

-

 

Louis doesn’t really have a reason this time, all he knows is that the wind feels wonderful on his face, almost freeing. He’s promised himself that he’s running away for good this time, his backpack is full of clothes instead of an algebra book that any normal 14 year old would have.

 

He runs until he reaches the farthest gas station from his apartment, and there are at least 6 just on his block. He walks in and the bell on the top of the door tinkles softly, alerting the woman at the counter of his arrival. She smiles warmly at him, her large head of curls bouncing as she restocks the cigarette cartons on the back wall.

 

Louis stops in his tracks and sighs, smiling back at her, because that might have been the only bit of true kindness that he’s seen in a over a month. Smiles can go miles, you know.

 

Louis picks up a pack of peanut M&M’s and a diet Mountain Dew before he trails over to the counter. The woman smiles at him again, possibly even more warmly than before.

 

“Hi sweetie, how’s it going?” she asked smiling brightly, her dark eyes glimmering kindly.

 

“Do you have any job openings?” Louis blurted.

 

“Yeah sweetie, I’ve also got an extra bed upstairs if you want a space. I know a run away when I see one,” she gave him a wink and he blushed slightly.

 

“Thank you,” he muttered, and maybe he was done running for a while.

 

-

 

The gas station and Andrea, the kind women with the full head of curls, have been treating him kindly. He’s 16 and he hasn’t run away in about 2 years, and he’s generally happy. Andrea’s taken him in as if he were her own, she reminds him of his mother, sweet and way too good.

 

While Louis’ been here he’s found out a lot about himself. He really like corn on the cob and hates mushrooms. He likes wearing his pants rolled up a little at the bottom and he refuses to wear socks with his shoes. He really likes boys a considerably bigger amount than he likes girls. And he’s really, really, okay with how he’s turned out.

 

He’s working the cash register while Andrea and the new girl, Jocelyn, stock all of the shelves and take inventory. Four bulky looking boys trail in, the bell on the door tinkling as they stomp in and head straight towards the alcohol section.

 

Louis scowls a little bit, none of the boys look old enough to be purchasing alcohol. He rolls his eyes as they make their way to the counter, laughing loudly and pushing each other around.

 

“Can I see an ID, please?” Louis asked, trying to keep a polite smile on his face.

 

The boys laughed even more, two of them whispering to each other and Louis glared at them.

 

“Oh sorry, my boy’s whisperin’ back there make ya mad, faggot?” the biggest one, apparently the leader, snickered. “Too fucking bad princes, yer not gettin’ an ID outta me, and they’re not gonna stop talking about your faggot ass.”

 

Louis’ shoulder collapse in as he makes himself smaller, he quickly scans the alcohol and gets them their change as fast as he can. He watches the boys leave, his shoulders heaved as he tried to control his breathing. He waited about five minutes until he himself was running out the door, the bell tinkling sadly behind him.

 

-

 

Louis’ working the cash register again munching on a bag of potato chips and sipping a can of Arizona Tea slowly. He’s 18 now and working on getting his GED and he’s happy. Well not quite happy, but better than usual.

 

The bell’s door tinkled brightly and Louis looked up to see Jocelyn walking in, a cappuccino in hand and mascara marks down her face.

 

“You alright, babe?” he asked her, pushing his chips aside.

 

“Yeah I’m good, Lou. Amber woke up with a fever and she’s so frustrating when she’s sick. Frustration equals tears and tears equals lots of coffee. How are you?”

 

“I’m alright, babe. Andrea had to run to the store but she left you a note of what to do on the board in the break room,” Louis smiled while grabbing another chip.

 

“Thanks, Lou,” she chirped before disappearing into the break room.

 

The bell on the door tinkled again and Louis looked up while throwing a hand to his chest because his heart just stopped, well, probably.

 

A boy with the curliest curls and the brightest green eyes he’s ever seen walked in, talking into his cell phone quietly while he ran his hands through his hair.

 

“Yeah alright, I’ll call you back okay? Yeah love you too mom, bye,” the boy ended his phone call and smile at Louis before he made his way to the fruit shelves. Louis’ eyes, not even subtly, followed the boy’s every move as he picked up a group of bananas. The boy smiled at him again as he made his way to the coolers and grabbed and a bottle of green tea.

 

Louis’ heart probably didn’t stop, but it at least skipped a beat. The energy in that boy’s smile could probably power all of fucking New York.

 

The boy brought his tea and bananas to the counter and picked up a pack of strawberry flavored gum, smiling again as he chewed loudly on the piece of gum currently in his mouth.

 

“Hi, how are you today?” Louis asked quietly, afraid that if he talked any louder he’d say something idiotic.

 

“I’m good,” he said, smiling again. Don’t his cheeks and jaw hurt, he’s smiling so damn much? Louis doesn’t mind, but he’s worried for his poor jaw muscles.

Louis quickly scanned the boy’s items and asked if he wanted his things in a bag or not and  if that’s all he wanted.

 

The boy smiled again, literally it should be physically painful by now, and said, “I’d like your phone number, if that’s alright?”

 

Louis froze, muttering utter idiocy because when boys this pretty want your number, how do you even reply? Louis ran to the back room and locked the door behind him. He takes a deep breath, because this time he knows he’ll come back, he’s just not ready yet.

 

\--

 

It turns out Louis didn’t need to run back to the boy with the curls and stunning eyes because, Harry, that was his name, spent the next three months running after him (in the best way possible of course).

 

Louis has slowly given his trust over to Harry, who’s the first male he’s trusted since he ran away from his father. He’s not totally comfortable yet, but Louis’ trying, and Harry is so willing and patient enough to wait.

 

They’re currently sitting in some run down park, picking wild flowers to string into Harry’s curls and Harry’s telling horrible knock knock jokes. Harry’s smile is still brighter than the sun and Louis thinks he hung the stars. Everything is brighter and better around Harry and even when he wants to run or when he doesn’t want to breathe, he’s got a reason to stay and a reason to take another breath.

 

Harry’s laugh fills the void of empty sound and takes Louis away from his thoughts.

 

“You’ve gotta admit Lou, that one was funny as hell,” Harry says literally hitting the ground because he can’t control his laughter and Louis is smiling, the purest most genuine smile that he’s smiled in a while.

 

Louis kisses Harry’s forehead and laughs along, “Yeah babe, it was great.”

 

And for the first time in forever, everything was great.


End file.
